


limitless

by mysticflakes



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 05:11:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20270527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticflakes/pseuds/mysticflakes
Summary: kei has a soulmate, and it's gross and distracting and he regrets ever joining the karasuno's volleyball team.(he's lying)





	limitless

**Author's Note:**

> written for day 4 of tsukihina week 2019: soulmate au!!!
> 
> OML IM SUCH A SUCKER FOR THEM

His soulmate thinks in bold capitals, words scrawling over his arm in slanted, sloppy prints.

As far as he can tell, his soulmate plays volleyball competitively and is absolutely _nuts _about it. His soulmate thinks about volleyball seventeen-out-of-nineteen times on average, and he knows because he actually counted and came up with the final ratio after five days of observation. Kei doesn’t know if he wants to meet them, because he has a feeling they would attempt to bully him into believing that volleyball is_ literally_ life.

To put it in simpler terms, his soulmate is a volleyball idiot.

(like he doesn't have enough of those in his life) 

Your soulmate’s thoughts don’t naturally appear as soon as you are born. It’s said to occur only when you meet them in person and had some interaction one way or another. Kei doesn’t have a habit of checking over his body for random scrawls and by the time he’s realized a stranger’s thoughts are making transient marks on his skin, he’s already three days into high school. He has met countless people by then, both inside of outside of school, and he doesn’t bother expending time and effort on extrapolating any possibilities when it’s clearly futile.

Sure, the entire idea of soulmates sounds pretty cool and Kei _is_ curious, but he’s got more important things to worry over, like whether his order for _The Dinosaur Artist _has already arrived, and when he will finish collecting all these damned volleyballs smashed all over the court. Damned his luck to be in charge of locking up today of all days.

“Hey, Tsukki?”

Kei picks up the last of the volleyballs he sees strewn about in the court and throws it back into the trolley. “Yeah?”

“Do you want to practice a little bit longer?”

Kei unlocks the brakes on the wheels, looks up, and arches a single brow at Yamaguchi. He thinks that’s telling enough. Yamaguchi doesn’t seem to get the memo, however.

“Come on, Tsukki, just twenty minutes more!”

“No,” Kei says flatly, rolling the trolley back into the direction of the clubroom, “I’m tired, and it’s late.”

“Aw,_ come on, _Tsukishima, don’t be such a spoilsport!”

Kei turns just in time to see Hinata bound into the court with a volleyball in his hands, Kageyama following closely behind. It’s like they are conjoined twins or something, always attached at the hip, and it’s gross.

Kei waits till Hinata is standing in front of him, his tall stature towering over Hinata without him trying to. Kageyama is silent behind Hinata but his pale blue eyes glimmer as they remain disconcertingly focused on Kei. But Kei doesn’t really care about the Grand King, not really, because the orange shortie offers much more entertainment value comparatively.

“No,” he repeats to Hinata, though he allows a flash of teeth this time.

Hinata doesn’t give up – Kei doesn’t know if he even knows what giving up is.

“We can practice together! I can hit the ball to you and you can block!” He spins the volleyball in his hands as he says so, bouncing on the balls of his feet, a restless bundle of energy. His eyes sparkle with excitement as he grins, wide and unabashed. “We can all get better together!”

He’s so annoying, always trying so hard. Kei stamps down his irritation and reaches down in one fluid motion, swiftly bumping the ball out of Hinata’s hands into his own. His right sleeve tumbles back down near his wrist with the gesture. He ignores Hinata’s gasp of indignation, lets the ball rests snugly on his palm high above Hinata’s head, a triumphant victory. A smirk slants across the length of his mouth.

“And _now_ you can’t, because I’m keeping this.”

Hinata reacts instinctively, knees bending at their joints and legs springing off the ground, jumping an impressive foot tall at least. Kei feels his own eyes widen in response, goosebumps prickling all over his arms and legs, because _what the fuck_, how high can this fucking shrimp jump – Kei nearly takes a step back, caught off-guard, as Hinata’s hand swipes down through thin air, misses smacking the ball right out of his hands by a few inches.

What the _hell_.

“Almost had it!” Hinata whines, “damn you, Tsukishima!”

He doesn’t try jumping again. Kei feels his mouth flatten to a thin line as he stares at Hinata, who’s ran off to complain to Yamaguchi, gesticulating wildly with his arms and pointing back at him every few seconds.

Christ, how athletically gifted is this guy, _disgusting. _

“There’s a reason Daichi-san handed me the keys instead of one of you volleyball idiots,” Kei says, dropping the ball into the trolley, "we aren’t supposed to stay here for too long after practice.”

Yamaguchi sighs, _finally _seeing reason, thank God. He’s severely outnumbered here, and he doesn’t have the energy to argue with every single one of them considering two of three might not even have brains. “Tsukki is right. Let’s just come earlier tomorrow for practice.”

Kageyama and Hinata reluctantly agrees, goes up to the net and helps Yamaguchi roll it back up in a neat bundle, handing it to Kei when they are done. Kei absently rolls his sleeve back up to his elbows before he reaches for net, catching sight of block letters forming words over his arm as he does so.

** _wanted to improve_ **

Volleyball again, of course. He resists the urge to roll his eyes as he dumps the net on top of the trolley, doing a quick scan of the court to make sure there’s nothing he misses. By habit, he looks down again at his arm, since thoughts by his soulmate don’t usually appear in lonesome.

** _must be lucky to be so tall _ **

Kei stares at it for a moment, turns back to where the idiots are, huddled near the door as they wait for him to be done. Things would align uncannily well if…

None of them are looking at him.

There’s _no way_. Their stupidity must be influencing him.

He’d sooner throw himself into the jaws of a Spinosaurus or something.

The disgusting thing about Hinata is how _well _he grows on people, the buzzing ball of energy an ever-present itch under his skin that he can’t scratch, and he learns that he doesn’t really want to make it go away anyway. Hinata has this _way _with words that makes you believe in whatever he says, and when those stupid unfiltered thoughts spill from his lips, his eyes are bright with earnest admiration and there’s this crescent curve of his mouth that dips the bottom right corner of his mouth into a disgustingly cute dimple. He looks at you like he’s seeing the sun for the first time, and Kei’s chest tightens with an ineffable emotion when Hinata looks at him like that, pride that is far too large for his tiny body splitting his mouth so wide he flashes teeth. 

_“That one point was worth a hundred points!” _

Hinata gives out compliments like they are free candies, handing them out to anyone who even _mildly _impresses him, and for that Kei is aware he shouldn’t feel anything_. _It’s nothing special for Hinata who has probably complimented every single person he has met one way or another. Nonetheless, it doesn’t stop warmth from blossoming in his chest like there’s a fucking sunrise caged in his ribs, heat prickling over the entirety of his body.

Hinata is now taking a short break next to him, an eerie sense of quiet settling into his features as he studies his teammates in game. Their knees are pressing together, Hinata’s leaning against Kei’s the moment he plops down to the empty spot beside him. Kei usually sneers down at him, a nasty derisive curl of his lips to make him go away, but today he's indulgent and he maybe shifts to press in a bit closer. It's honestly unsanitary because there’s a sheen of sweat on them both with how intense the practice is, and it really shows how _bad_ it has gotten, how Hinata has slipped himself into the cracks of Kei’s supposed impenetrable walls he doesn’t even knows existed in the first place.

“Say.” Hinata’s voice startles him out of his thoughts. Kei makes a sound to let him know he's listening, keeping his eyes on the match. “There’s a limit how high I can jump, right?”

The question throws him off. He frowns, turns to look at Hinata. He’s looking back at him, and there’s a strange calmness that he recognizes it to be when Hinata’s trying to take apart game plays to understand them better, or when he’s trying to take in the overall court situation to assess the current position of the team and, right now, there’s an awful sinking realization that twists his gut and makes him slightly sick, Hinata is trying to take _himself_ apart.

He stares at Hinata for a moment longer than he should.

“If it’s you,” he says, throat tight, “the sky’s the limit.”

Christ, it’s the most disgustingly positive thing he has ever said and he wants to throw up, but some part of him honestly believes it to be true.

Hinata looks stunned to silence, wide-eyed, and there’s faint redness that colours his cheeks.

“You just focus on the in-air battles, stupid,” he deadpans. Hinata’s gaze is a molten brown, a dark intensity he has never seen before lurking in their depths. His breath hitches in his throat, and he quickly looks away, heat climbing up to his ears. “We have your back on ground.”

“Yeah,” Hinata says after a beat of silence, "you are right."

There’s something off about his tone that Kei can’t put a finger on. Because he is too much of a coward to look at him, he fidgets with his elbow guard and pushes it up, then pauses, surprised to see new thoughts scrawled on his arm.

** _he’s so cool what the hell_ **

Kei cocks his head to the side, curious, as he picks up a rare deviation from the usual volleyball-related mess his soulmate is.

** _whoever who has him as their soulmate is lucky _ **

Kei senses a kind of bitterness underlying that particular train of thought.

He catches himself agreeing with his soulmate in his head, despite them talking about completely different people. 

Kei wonders where Hinata has his soulmate mark, if it's under his elbow guard just like Kei's, or if his soulmate's thoughts leave trailing marks on his thighs, right above his knees. He wonders who Hinata's soulmate is, what kind of person they are, and if they will treat Hinata right.

He imagines a faceless stranger tracing pretty cursives on Hinata's thigh with their fingers, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

His throat closes up around his windpipe, and a dreadful coldness chills him down to his bones. A heavy dead weight crushes down into his chest and fills up every possible space around his heart, an unbidding dark mass that squeezes and squeezes viciously, and it takes him a few seconds to remember how to breathe. 

He doesn't think of it again.

And then Hinata, the fucking nerve of him, darts from one end of the court to the other, a flurry of shadows so fast that it's impossible for them to catch, much less the opponent --

his toned calves flex briefly as he bends low, the only warning, and then he jumps -- _soars_ towards the ceiling --his body arching into a beautiful crescent backward, and all air is knocked from Kei's lungs as he watches, breathless, thinks he sees black feathered wings unfold from Hinata's shoulders, majestic and impossibly grand, as Hinata's arm swings back like a sharp whip and smashes the ball down, a resounding slam straight to the ground. 

\-- Hinata lands back on his feet, graceful and effortless, and both his hands are clenched to tight fists in front of him, shoulders shaking. Kei is in pieces, feels like the ball has just slammed right into his heart instead, as he stares stupidly at the number 10 on his back. 

Then he turns, bright orange hair catching the fluorescent stadium lights in their glory, and it's like he's _glowing_ like a fucking angel, this goddamned monster, his predatory gaze zooming in onto Kei almost immediately. 

It's Hinata's in-game, eeriely collected look that ensnares Kei's attention as his chest tightens to the point he thinks his heart is about to burst. There's an absurd amount of pride that threatens to spill at the seams as he holds Hinata's gaze, a different kind of heat pooling at his abdomen. 

He's _amazing_, and it's the first time Kei thinks a word isn't enough of an encapsulation. 

Hinata raises a hand when he reaches him, and Kei manages to maintain his stoic facade as he utters, "That was disgusting," mustering as much scorn as he can in three words.

Hinata brightens like he hears the biggest compliment ever, though. Fucking weirdo. "It's your turn to shine now, Tsukishima!"

Kei manages a grunt and an impassive curl of his lips, hand slapping against Hinata's before the little shit brushes past him with a little spring in his step like he hasn't just pulled the most disgusting stunt ever. He can still hear his heart hammering in his ears, feel the heat in his face. Desperate for a distraction, he tugs down at the elbow guard to take a glimpse hoping there's something there --

and his heart nearly stops in his chest, a warm jolt of startling realization sinking right down to the marrow of his bones.

** _the sky is the limit just like he said_ **

He breathes, slides his eyes shut as he recollects himself.

He's sharp-eyed and focused when he opens his eyes again, ravenous for victory.

It gets worse when Hinata turns his shrewd gaze on him mid-game after he pulls off a well-calculated defense, a silver predatory glint tucked in his pretty brown eyes, says “_you’re amazing_”, and has his mouth slanting just so it looks equal parts tender and smug and Kei wants to punch his stupid face in and press him up against the wall and kiss him breathless.

(this sun is _mine_)

It’s gross and distracting and Kei wants to turn back time and never step foot in Karasuno again.

They go on to win the game.

"Tsukki, it's been a _month_ since you know who it is!" Yamaguchi despairs. "You should let them know!"

Kei pointedly lifts his headphones to his ears, bent on blocking Yamaguchi out. He makes a grand show of pulling out his phone and scrolling through his playlist.

Yamaguchi is nothing if not relentless, though, and he plows on: "There must be a reason you don't want your soulmate to know it's you."

He narrows his eyes at Kei, who's starting to feel like he's stripped bare under Yamaguchi's scrutiny. 

"What's this about soulmates?!" 

_Great_, Kei thinks, as Hinata sets down his bento along with Kageyama after joining two more tables together, turning those dumb sparkling eyes onto him. "Tsukishima, you found yours?!"

"Cool," Kageyama says, nodding his head as he unwraps his home-made sandwiches. 

Kei tries to get Yamaguchi to shut up about it with a warning look he shoots his way, but it's too late, because Yamaguchi supplies helpfully, "He found his soulmate but doesn't want to tell them because he's embarrassed."

Okay, now _that's _too much. Kei tugs down his headphones and scowls at Yamaguchi, ignoring Hinata's eyes boring holes to the side of his face. "I'm _not _embarrassed. I just don't think it's necessary to tell them." 

"Why not?" Hinata asks, bright-eyed and a curious lilt in his voice. "If I had you as my soulmate, I'd be super excited. You're so cool!" 

"Oh?" Kei lifts a brow, doesn't resist the lazy drawl that spills from his lips as he leans forward, rests an arm on the table. There's a mere few inches between them. "You're my soulmate, wanna date?" 

Hinata's jaw slackens, and his eyes widen so comically big they are like saucers. He doesn't speak for a full three seconds.

Kei leans back, hates the heavy disappointment that curls its leaden fingers around his gut and rests queasily in his abdomen for the rest of the afternoon.

"It was a joke," he says, rolling his eyes, "I wouldn't want you as my soulmate, Christ."

(he doesn't see how Hinata deflates beside him, twitchy fingers tight around his chopsticks)

Yamaguchi's eyes dart between the two of them, equal parts curious and contemplative. 

Everything changes one week later, Kei working out a difficult math problem on a weekend night, when he feels an unusual sting on his arm. Frowning, he pulls his elbow guard down and sees dark bold capitals etched into his skin, inked words shifting in a flurry of borderline hysteria, a mantra that keeps repeating over and over --

_ **hurts HURTS hurts it hurts so much what to do hurts HURTS HURTS ** _

Kei is gripped by a cold-white flash of panic, chest tightening as he snatches his phone off his desk and dials Hinata's number. 

No one answers. The idiot probably left his phone in the school locker or something. Even though it's nearly 10 at night, he doesn't put it past Hinata to be practicing in the school gym way past hours they are allowed to. He tugs on a jacket and grabs another for a good measure, dashing down the steps and rushing out of the house after throwing a quick "_it's an emergency_" behind to his mother.

By the time he reaches school on his bike, the thoughts have stopped their anxious scrawls over his arm. He rounds the corner and stops at the door of the gym, and it's only when he sees a small figure curled in the corner of the hall that the tension seeps from his muscles.

_He's okay. He's okay. _

_Thank God. _

The chilly air of the gym bites into his skin, and it's obvious the damned moron didn't think to turn the heater on. Does he not know how to take care of himself?

"Oi," he says, reaching Hinata in large, quick strides.

Hinata looks up, sniffling, eyes watery and swollen, face blotchy with tears clinging onto his lashes, and there's a trail of snot running down his nose. He looks ugly as hell, and Kei _aches _to fix it for him so he'd stop looking like that. He drops to one knee, unfolds the spare jacket over his arm and drapes it over Hinata's shoulders wordlessly.

"Hey," he tries again, an uncharacteristic softness in his tone, "what happened?"

A wretched sob breaks through the silence that falls between them a moment later, and Hinata has one hand curling shaky fingers into his face as he breaks down into what Kei is sure another bout of tears. 

"My -- my _knee_," Hinata gasps out between sobs, free hand scratching and grappling at his knee, and Kei understands, all of a sudden. 

Oh shit, that can't be good. 

His hand wraps around Hinata's, though, stops his futile self-hatred that's directed at his worn-out kneecaps. His fingers are tight around Hinata's as he murmurs, "We will go see the doctor. It doesn't have to mean anything."

He feels so useless, knowing there's only so many words he can say that Hinata will find reassuring.

"You don't understand," Hinata says, voice cracking, mouth quivering, his face half-covered by his hand, "I can _only _jump. If I can't do that, there's nothing left for me. I'm _nothing_."

The self-deprecating laughter that tumbles from Hinata is unlike him, high-strung and hollow and _painful_, and it sounds like pulling teeth, rough around the edges.

A sudden surge of protectiveness rushes forward in his veins, and before he can think, he has his hands splayed on either side of Hinata's neck, thumbs gently lifting Hinata's chin and forcing him to meet his eyes. 

"You are _never _nothing," he says fiercely, pressing their foreheads together, "you moron."

Hinata's exhale spills between them, wide-eyed, then abruptly jerks in his hold as if burned and glances down. Kei doesn't notice that Hinata's usual kneeguard is missing in his hurry till now.

He swallows hard, then follows Hinata's gaze downwards, sees an uncannily familiar handwriting that bleeds dark ink into Hinata's muscled thigh.

_ **stupid idiot you are fucking everything** _

Kei wants to kill himself, he's so fucking gross, what the fuck, _ew_. 

_ ** that is so cheesy it's disgusting ** _

"... Tsukishima?" There's a noticeable hitch in Hinata's voice.

Kei's heart jumps to his throat, and he slowly lifts his head.

Hinata's staring at him, his snot still running and his eyes still wet with tears.

The silence hangs thick and heavy between them, and Kei struggles to breathe, a churning unease at the pit of his stomach.

"It has always been you," he whispers, _finally_ realizes. 

"... Yeah."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Kei stiffens. "I did."

Hinata cocks his head to his side, like all pain is forgotten at the moment. "That one doesn't count," he pauses, then asks, brown eyes searching Kei's face, "did you not want --?"

"Don't be stupid," Kei says flatly, "would I be here if I didn't want you." 

A small smile curls at the corners of Hinata's mouth, and there's the stupid little dimple right at the edge of it. The warmth that spreads across his chest feels like summer after winter, a disgusting tenderness that's so strong and all-encompassing it nearly chokes him.

The smile lasts for a second only though, and Hinata rests a hand on his knee again, a dark look crossing his face as he goes mute. 

Kei lays his hand on Hinata's, turns his hand over and laces their fingers together. He absently notes how his hand is so much bigger it covers Hinata's in its entirety. He hopes that gives him some kind of reassurance. "I'm here." 

_It will be okay_, he wants to say, but he's not a fan of empty promises or lies, so he wraps his free arm around Hinata's shoulder and tugs him forward instead, right into him. Hinata is a bundle of warmth pressed up against him, and he doesn't resist tightening his hold around him. 

"Thank you," Hinata murmurs later on, voice slightly muffled with his face pressed against Kei's shoulder. "I'm glad it's you."

Kei makes a sound at the back of his throat, can feel his face twisting in equal parts embarrassment and fondness, "Me too." 

"Do you know," Hinata tells him some months later, mouth quirking in tender fondness as he straddles Kei's hips, "when you say _disgusting_ it sounds like you're saying good things like love, adore, and amazing?" 

"Oh, really," Kei says, their mouths scant inches apart, "you are really disgusting, then."

Hinata huffs out soft peals of laughter as he surges forward and presses their mouths together. 

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted like, bANTER, but im trying not to turn it into a monster so i hope yall enjoyed and if yall love tsukihina PLS HMU ON TUMBLR @fallibleflakes or TWITTER @sleepyflakes SO YKNOW, WE CAN SCREAM ABOUT FEELINGS


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